


Episode 63: Manda

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [63]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Speak your name, then." ~AviilaWhether or not Aviila believes Jiik's claims isn't important, at least not right now...
Series: Clan Meso'a [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 63: Manda

Garrigon nodded to one of the technicians then whispered to Chellin, “Found them. They’re a few parsecs away from Falstra.”   
“Type out a message to them,” the Alor ordered “Have them ready to move.”   
Garrigon nodded and left the table; Jiik frowned as he left.   
“Something troubling you?” Aviila asked, arms crossed in front of her.   
“Where do I start?” Jiik grunted.   
“How about you tell me how you learned our words.”   
Jiik growled and paced away from the table.   
“Aviila,” Jecho implored her, “You really shouldn’t provoke him.”   
Aviila shrugged, “If he’s not going to tell the truth, then I don’t care.”   
Cara gulped, still holding onto Jecho. 

“Okay,” said Beun, glancing at the coordinates on her wrist com. She raised a finger and drew a circle in the air. The others nodded, Fent patting Beon’s shoulder as he passed following Beun into the cockpit. Maceon watched them leave, chewing the inside of her lip and fidgeting with the clasp of her hip pouch.   
“What are we doing?” asked Teika.   
“Coordinates came in from base,” explained Noga’n over the com, getting up and hobbling out of the way of Beun, “We’re going to head their way while Jiik distracts them.”   
“So it’s a ruse, then?”  
“I guess so?”  
Maceon made a face only Beon seemed to notice.   
“Strap in,” Beun ordered, “And get ready to jump.”   
“I understand,” Aviila said, re-crossing her arms and tapping her fingers on her gauntlet.   
“What’s going on?” asked Jecho.   
“Your friends are on their way.”   
“We should get ready, then,” Jecho pulled Cara farther away from the table towards the ladder down to the bunk room.   
“But-” Cara protested, the rest of her words obstructed by the sound of them clambering down the ladder.   
Jiik dragged a hand down his face, his back still to the holotable.   
“I’m willing to give you a chance,” Aviila continued, “Not many of us would do that.”   
The Togruta gave a mirthless laugh and turned around, “Even if I told you the truth, what good would it do?”   
Aviila shrugged, “Might provide us with some answers. Your clan has caused us a lot of trouble.”   
Jiik shook his head, “See that’s what I don’t get,” he gestured around, “We’ve done nothing to you.”   
“You really want to go that route?”  
“Is that a threat?”   
“Maybe.”   
Jiik crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his left leg, “Alright, then, I’ll tell you what I remember and you tell me why there are scouting ships hiding out on Hutta or,” he pretended to glance at an invisible datapad on the table, “Zakuul. Deal?”  
Aviila twitched, “What are you talking about?”   
“Oh? Shouldn’t know that, should we?”   
The Council members looked around at one another.   
“We… don’t have scouting ships on either planet,” said Palouta as more of a question than a statement, “We haven’t… in what way does he mean? Aviila, ask him that.”   
“What do you mean by scouting ships?”   
Jiik rolled his eyes, “I’m not sure how clearer I can be.”   
“Try, then,” she growled.   
“How about-”   
“Woah!”   
Jiik startled and wheeled around to face the doorway, now ajar.   
“Who’s that?” asked Tir, bounding up to the table despite the enraged bantha that was his grandfather, “Su cuy’gar!” he waved.   
Aviila regarded the child with a tilted head.   
“Now is not the time, Tir,” Jiik growled. Tir winced.   
“Well,” he said sheepishly, Talva slowly coming to his side, “Buir holoed and said she was going to contact control so… we came to see her fight.”   
“Fight?” asked Aviila, trying to swallow her anxiety about Jiik’s revelation. She knew the Council would fill her in momentarily, but she wanted to at least pretend a little longer that she wasn’t rattled.   
Tir nodded up at her, a wide smile on his face, “She’s fighting Deathwatch!”  
“Tir-”   
“Oh really? Well, Ordo, I guess you’re not completely dishonorable.”   
Tir tilted his head, “What’s that supposed to mean?”   
“Tir, Talva, out!” Jiik ordered, pointing at the door, “I’ll touch base with your mother, now go back to the barracks!”  
“But ba’buir!” he protested, “We-”   
“Tir?” Aviila gave a not entirely forced chuckle, “His name is Tir?”  
Jiik winced, a deep snarl of largely embarrassment on his face, “Yes, and I say it a lot to him as you can tell.”   
“Say what?” asked Tir, looking from his grandfather to the holo warrior.   
Aviila gave another chortle into the back of her hand, “Well, ad, in my culture ‘tir’ means ‘no’!”   
It took the young Togruta a moment, but realization spread over his features like a waterfall crashing against the rocks.   
“My name means ‘no’?!” he exclaimed.   
Talva burst into laughter, holding onto his shoulders to steady herself.   
“Were you ever going to tell him?” Aviila asked between her own poorly hidden amusement.   
“It wasn’t my decision,” Jiik retorted, his cheeks flushed orange, “His mother has a terrible sense of humor.”   
Tir looked fit to punch him and Talva who was still a giggly heap beside him. Though amusing, Aviila could tell that the boy’s initial outrage had turned to an almost shameful embarrassment. She knelt, putting her at eye-level of her ship’s holotable but also with him.   
“Enad,” she addressed him.   
Reluctantly, he looked up at her.   
“You know what that word means?”  
He nodded, “Ba’buir once called me that.”  
Aviila sighed as a sharp pain jabbed her chest, “It’s true, then?”  
Jiik let out a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he put an arm around his grandson. “What reason would I have to lie.”   
“You should know there are many.”   
“Not one I’d risk him for.”   
Aviila looked up at him, then back down at Tir, and against her better judgement she lifted her face plate. Chellin moved around the table as she did, coming to Talva’s side and gently patting the girl’s shoulder as she collected herself. Though his ultimate curiosity was focused on the identity of their interlocutor, Chellin watched Jiik, his longtime friend and brother, stand even taller than he had been earlier. Aviila undid the two straps holding the plate to the back of her helmet and uncliped the front safety latch, revealing her bi-colored face and tattooed chin to the Ordo. Old scars dotted her cheeks and jawline, and her nose was slightly misshapen near the bridge. To Chellin, she was like most Mandalorian women he knew; to Jiik, she felt like a breath of fresh air. As his eyes roamed over her face, he had to catch himself before his mind wandered down paths he hadn’t ventured in a long time. Disjointed emerald fields, the smell of sweet spices, and the bark of a long forgotten creature nipping at his heels.   
“Your name,” she demanded, cutting through his thoughts.   
He blinked for a moment, the artificially lit room swallowing the image of a ruddy-tan face that swam to the forefront of his mind.   
“My name,” he repeated as though it didn’t occur to him that she should ask.   
“Your name.”   
He nodded and took a deep breath, crossing the arm around Tir behind his back.   
“Ta Am’jiik-”   
“Na’tus!” the harsh scream shattered the silence of the council chamber. [He lies!]


End file.
